


(Ain’t it Hard) Keeping It So Hardcore

by WhoopsImASinner



Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, Gay, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Pre-Slash, Rope Bondage, but definitely sexy undertones, more people need to write this pairing plz, sorry no sexy times in this fic bc klaus and diego are sad boys, this is not brotherly, to be explored at a later date, very gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-01 22:13:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17875814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsImASinner/pseuds/WhoopsImASinner
Summary: Set in Episode 1x06. A slightly different take on the Klaus-gets-tied-up-by-Diego scene.Diego couldn’t resist leaning in, pulling the rope harshly to tighten his bindings. He knew what that would feel like. The way the rope would drag across skin, how the friction would leave Klaus’ body burning, how the bindings would cradle his chest as he gasped, reminding him he was here, constrained and controlled.





	(Ain’t it Hard) Keeping It So Hardcore

“I need you to tie me up,” Klaus had said, and now Diego was standing in their attic, holding the rope. He never could resist when someone asked for his help. When _Klaus_ asked for his help, when he looked so desperate. When he actually seemed to be trying, in his messed up way. Diego couldn’t say no to that.

Klaus dragged a wooden chair across the floor to the center of the room. The legs squeaked noisily, and Diego resisted rolling his eyes. Klaus always seemed to find any opportunity to be a brat.

“Just sit down,” he said, firm but not unkind. Klaus flopped into the seat, but just as quickly straightened back up. He drummed his fingers against his legs, shook his knee up and down, eyes bright and bordering on the edge of frantic. Diego sighed. He knew what his “brother” looked like when he was jonesing for a fix. 

He stepped forward, not bothering to ask why Klaus needed this, or how he’d like it to go down. Diego had learned long ago that Klaus wasn’t an authority on what was best for himself. He was self-sabotaging by nature. Diego had to keep an eye out for that.

Right now, though, Klaus seemed content to leave his fate in Diego’s hands. He was restless, but his gaze had become unfocused, sightless. He had slipped into his head again, like earlier in Diego’s car. Diego didn’t like it. It was too reminiscent of the way Klaus was when they were teenagers. Diego remembered how he would come back from weekend trips away with Dad. He would slip through the front doors, all quiet and wide-eyed and flinchey and decidedly un-Klauslike, and it would take days for him to return to himself. Even then, each time he seemed to drift farther away.

Diego slid the blue rope around Klaus’ chest. His hands moved smoothly, practiced. He knew how to tie people up, in more than one way. He looped the rope around Klaus’ abdomen, once, twice, three times. Diego knew how to strangle a man twice his size with twine, how to make him silently slip away. He ran the rope under Klaus’ armpits. Diego knew how to restrain a woman in just the right way, how to make her sigh and shake. 

Diego wove the rope through the back of the chair, around again and across his chest. Klaus’ shivered at that, and Diego noticed how still he had been. His fingers were lax on his knees. His breathing was steady.  

But his eyes flitted towards Diego, and there was that self-destructive glint shining in them. “Oh yeah, just like that, tighter and higher!” Klaus said, and began to fidget again. His voice was strained. 

Diego couldn’t resist leaning in, pulling the rope harshly to tighten his bindings. He knew what that would feel like. The way the rope would drag across skin, how the friction would leave Klaus’ body burning, how the bindings would cradle his chest as he gasped, reminding him he was here, constrained and controlled. And sure enough, Klaus did gasp, and Diego watched his eyes flutter closed.

“There are easier ways to get sober, you know,” Diego murmured, as he slid his hand under Klaus’ leg, threading the rope around his thigh. “Don’t think you need all of this.” 

But even as he said it, Diego knew that Klaus did need this, and they both knew it wasn’t just about getting sober. Klaus was looking at Diego now, and his pupils were blown wide. Maybe it was wrong to let Klaus replace one high with another, but Diego didn’t feel very guilty. At least this way he could control Klaus’ high. At least he could keep him safe. 

“Yeah well I’ve got to make sure I get it right. There’s someone I need to talk to, and the whole conjuring thing doesn’t seem to work too well when I’m high,” Klaus said. He grinned at Diego, but his smile was too wide.

“Someone you lost?” asked Diego. “What was her name?” Because they had never talked about the likelihood that Klaus preferred hims. As a teenager, Diego had been bitter about Klaus’ unsecret secrecy. Everything about him screamed who he was, but when Diego tried to ask him about it Klaus always brushed him off, turned away. Now, Diego realized that was just Klaus’ way. He didn’t know how to be open, but couldn’t stand being closed off.

Today, though, Klaus surprised him. “His name was Dave,” he said softly. “We soldiered together in the A Shau Valley in the Mountain of the Crouching Beast.” 

Diego felt his heart twist for Klaus, for himself, thinking of Eudora. He didn’t know what parts of Klaus’ story were real, where the drugs had woven into his mind and skewed reality, but he did know what loss sounded like. He focused on tying a set of knots along Klaus’ calves. Concentrated on the way they would press into Klaus’ skin, the feel of the rope against his fingertips, until the lump in his throat had passed. “Well, Dave must have been a very special guy,” he said, “to put up with all of your weird ass shit.”

“He was,” said Klaus, his voice sounding slower than usual. His eyes sat at half-mast and his muscles shifted under the pull of his breathing and Diego thought he looked more  comfortable than he had seen in years. “He was kind and strong and vulnerable and beautiful.”

Diego nodded, let those words wash over him. He stepped back to admire his handiwork. The rope ran like blue rivers across Klaus’ chest, dipping down to his legs, rippling across his arms and back. Klaus had lapsed into silence, stillness. Diego dipped two fingers under the rope looped around Klaus’ neck to check the tightness. This seemed to rouse Klaus’ back to himself. He tried to turn his head towards Diego, but the rope restricted his movement. This close, Diego could see the way his eyes turned fuzzy again, the way he swallowed harshly, the way tension slipped back into his skin.

“Shit man,” Klaus said, his voice breathy. “I think I need to pee.” He shifted his legs as he said it, and Diego’s gaze was drawn down to Klaus’ crotch. He thought that peeing wasn’t what it looked like Klaus needed to do. Not with that boner pressed against the tight seam of his pants.

“No you don’t,” Diego replied. 

“I don’t?” And Klaus could have sounded challenging, but instead he only sounded confused, gentle, maybe even pleased.

“No,” said Diego. “You need to sit here for the next few hours like a good boy, and get sober. “

“Yeah,” said Klaus, and it came out a bit more like a groan than he probably meant it. His legs twitched again. “Okay.” 

Diego smiled to himself. He stepped back, paused, couldn’t resist running his hand over Klaus’ head, just once. Klaus turned into the touch as much as his bindings would allow, his eyes closed. 

Roughly, Diego cleared his throat, pulled his hand away. “I’ll check on you in a bit,” he said. He didn’t wait to hear Klaus’ reply. He didn’t want to know what he’d say, what Diego would do, where this road they had started on today was going to lead them.

“Okay,” he heard Klaus say anyway, soft and subdued and just barely bordering on something more dangerous, something sensual. Diego didn’t turn back. He let his feet carry him out of this attic, out of that intoxicating headspace.

He had more important things to do than Klaus. At least that was what he would tell himself, for today.

**Author's Note:**

> Imagine if Diego and Klaus could be a couple like Allison and Luther instead of queerbaited with no-homos thrown in every few minutes of screen time. *sigh*


End file.
